Whoopsies
by flybynight00
Summary: Walls can fall without any warning. Happiness can arrive unexpectedly. Clavicles can lead to love.
1. Whoopsies

_In which Roy has an Identity Crisis, and a really weird Fetish; or, in which Roy has a really weird Fetish and an Identity Crisis._

* * *

**R**oy was a Clavicle Man.

This was a little-known fact, and one he was inclined to conceal. It just seemed so... romantic, to be mesmerized by such a delicate part of a woman. So sensitive, ugh, dear god no. When asked, he was a Leg Man, thank you very much. Not the pedestrian Breast Man, nor the lecherous Ass Man. A Leg Man. Sophisticated, discerning, yet still masculine. Yes indeed.

Clavicles.

Fullmetal sulked. Fullmetal persisted in treating every mission assignment as a personal affront. Fullmetal said, "It's hot in here," and unbuttoned his jacket.

Oh, holy hell. Oh, _shit_.

Now that was a lovely clavicle. Beautifully defined, gracefully accenting a really rather attractive suprasternal notch. Hell, who was he kidding, that was a _beautiful_ suprasternal arch. And... and... the way the right one disappeared under the automail, the port curving up beneath it as if to frame it. How fascinating and exotic. How unique. How...

FIFTEEN.

UNDER HIS COMMAND.

_MALE._

x

"Colonel? Mustang? Hello? Hellooooo?"

Another boring and tedious meeting with the most annoying man alive. It always killed Ed how civilized the Colonel could be at times, all _Let's have some tea and catch up, Fullmetal_ when Ed knew the bastard was saving up for a zinger about Ed's height or age or maturity or what have you. And Ed didn't really like tea anyway... but the Colonel always had such good tea, the bastard, even if it was really too warm to be drinking tea at all. So now here they were having their stupid tea. Yet another successful manipulation by Roy Mustang.

The Colonel wasn't drinking his tea right now, though. He was looking sort of fixedly at Ed's shirtfront, in fact, and ignoring what Ed was saying, and Ed did a rapid calculation of the last time he ate versus the last time he saw Al. He concluded he probably didn't have food on his shirt. Al would have let him know all about it if he did, 'cause Al had his back like that. And took a perverse pleasure in lecturing him about his manners and eating habits.

x

Some fundamental notions of self were rapidly reshuffling in the mind of Roy Mustang.

_Ok Roy, this is not actually a problem. This is just a case of Clavicle Magnetism. It's happened before. Just not on a man, uh, boy, oh hell. But hey, if you stick a rose on a holly bush, it's still a rose, right? It doesn't mean you suddenly have some thing for sniffing holly. No biggie here. Just a fine specimen of clavicle. Maybe a clavicle approaching the Ideal Clavicle, as in one of Plato's Ideals, as in the single archetypal Clavicle of which all other clavicles are merely a poor shadow. Oh, shit._

_Ok. Roy. Let's just analyze this situation and figure out exactly how wanting to run your tongue along Fullmetal's collarbone and maybe some other stuff too in no way makes you an authority-abusing gay pedophile._

Mustang still had a weird look on his face, but at least wasn't staring at Ed's shirtfront or anything. He _was_ doing a very, very poor job debriefing Ed. He'd just asked about collateral damage three times in a row, and while normally that would just mean he was being an ass, he seemed to be actually confused this time. Weird.

_... sure, fifteen is young, but puberty has come calling. I'm pretty sure that means I'm not into kids. Ok, not a pedophile. Definitely not. And it's ok to just be attracted to a subordinate, right? It's not like I'm doing anything... I just really, really want to. I wonder what his hair would look like down around his supraclavicular fossae..._

x

"...and then me and Al caught the train to Hamner that Thursday morning."

"Ah, Hamford, you said?"

This was really just ridiculous. "No, _Hamner_, Colonel, the town that you sent me to assess. You know, that place that you ordered me to go."

"Yes, of course, Fullmetal. And, ah, the status of the dam is...?"

Ed stared. "The status of the dam was _not located in Hamner_. The dam was in Candleford. Hell, you assigned this mission, don't you remember anything about it?"

Wow. The Colonel didn't even catch that the dam was now past tense.

x

_...ooh, look at the way his trapezius pops when he cocks his head to the side..._

x

Ed looked at the way the Colonel was shifting around in his chair and was strongly reminded of his mother teasing him with the expression "Do you have ants in your pants?" when he was a kid. Did the man need to pee?

In a singular moment of sensitivity (hey, any man could identify with needing to pee), Ed came up with a very flimsy excuse to postpone the rest of the debriefing. When the Colonel vaguely waved a hand in response, Ed altered his "needs to pee" theory to a "having a breakdown brought on by being a jackass" theory. Ah well. Upon consideration, it had really been inevitable.

x

Roy was left in peace, except it wasn't so much peace as a ringing silence in which to further contemplate this new attraction.

_... your hands gently bracing his scapulae as you slowly kiss you way up his sternocleidomastoideus... Roy, you are completely disregarding the fact this boy is a man. Oh, shit, what was wrong with *that* sentence._

_Can you be gay from the sternum up?_

_Shit._


	2. Oopsies

_In which Roy continues to be unsubtle, and Edward gets the Wrong Idea._

* * *

**F**ullmetal took to wearing his hair in a high ponytail, the brat.

Roy heard a number of comments in the hallway about the glory of Fullmetal's hair, oh! The color! Oh! The shine! Roy didn't give a damn about the hair. However, the tantalizing knob of a vertebra now exposed, peeping from under the collar of Ed's jacket, was making his life absolute misery. Roy now made sure the blinds were drawn when Fullmetal came to give his reports, to keep the room as cool as possible in hopes the little tease would keep his goddamn jacket closed. The day he unbuttoned it before leaning out of his chair to pick a folder off the ground, the tail of hair slipping forward over his shoulder to expose that forbidden territory, still kept Roy awake at night. In fact, he was losing quite a lot of sleep lately. He took to working until he was absolutely exhausted, the only way he could guarantee he wouldn't lie awake squirming to images of Ed, his exquisitely sculpted shoulders bare, the musculature perfectly wrapping perfectly crafted bones…

And the goddamned clavicles. It's not like the clavicles had gone away. No, there they were, smugly perfect as always, damn, damn, damn.

Ed was beginning to very much regret that he was spending such a long period of time in Central. He was working part time with a researcher in Lab 4, and had to report to Mustang regularly on his progress, for reasons he didn't quite understand. Mustang was clearly never eager to see him, always rubbing his forehead like he had a headache as soon as Ed walked in the door, but persisted in staring at Ed in the weirdest way. Staring at his… neck?

Reconnaissance was in order.

"Uh… would you say the Colonel has been acting a little unusual lately?"

"… why, no. He's been working late, but we've had more requests to process than usual. It's not surprising. I'm just glad he's managing to stay on top of the workload."

"… well, no, Boss, I haven't noticed anything."

"… the Colonel? Well, he has been working awfully late. The Lieutenant has been getting after him about sleeping during the day, she says he should make an effort to have a normal sleep schedule."

x

Roy knew he was acting bizarrely, but he just couldn't help it, damn it. He showed up at the office pale and red-eyed, but managed to pass it off as a spate of industriousness. Hawkeye had a little trouble accepting it, but how could she complain about him accomplishing _too much_?

Oddly, or perhaps not oddly, Fullmetal was the one who seemed really suspicious. Part of it was probably his complete refusal to believe Mustang could ever actually work hard. But then the day came when Ed, rather than carelessly leaving his jacket open, suddenly clasped the collar shut with a gloved hand, and Mustang realized he had been staring again, and now Ed had noticed. And had a very wary look in his eye.

x

"So he's been staying up really late at night?" Ed's voice was casual.

"Well, yeah. Like I said, he's driving the Lieutenant crazy falling asleep during the day. At least it's giving me a break from his girlfriend-stealing. Huh. Maybe exhaustion takes the edge off his animal magnetism. I swear, it's like they look into his eyes and forget their own names."

x

Oh, no. Now Ed was on to him. Roy figured it was only a matter of time before Ed started the screaming match about Roy being a perverted lech, and then Alphonse would break down his office door and assist in beating him to a bloody pulp. And Roy wouldn't even have the heart to try to defend himself, because he _deserved_ it, he was a dirty, gay, disgusting, gay, lecherous, gay, authority-abusing, gay…

x

"I swear, that man has ears like a bat. One crinkle when I'm unwrapping a roast beef sandwich, and he's out of his office and _looming_ over me."

x

Ed finally had to acknowledge that there was only one possible conclusion:

Mustang was a vampire.

_It all makes sense: the pale skin, the dark hair, the absence of a soul. Man, how did I miss it for so long? Yeah, mythical creatures, blah blah blah, but so were homunculi and like those don't exist. If only. Vampires aren't a far stretch. And look at him, he's practically licking his lips. Shit, he is *actually* licking his lips. That is so creepy. Ech, he's nibbling on his bottom lip now, damn those are some white teeth._

_Havoc's been bitching about his unnatural seductive powers since freaking forever. And the strange sleep schedule… His office is always dim now, too, sounds like light sensitivity to me. But this hasn't been going on for that long… so maybe his vampiric tendencies have been strengthening lately? There's that new cook in the mess, come to think of it, he puts a lot less garlic in the meat sauce. It's always the little things that come back to bite you in the ass._

x

Then came the day Roy found Ed staring back. However, Ed's gaze seemed to be directed somewhere around the center of his chest. Sometimes his eyes would suddenly flick to the chair beside him. Roy wondered what he was thinking.

x

_If he ever lunges, the automail isn't going to help. It takes wood, right? And I can't just clap and turn metal into wood. Oh, hey! I'd just have to dive for that chair. Break off a leg, go for the heart. I'm fast, I could do it._

x

Occasionally, Ed's eyes would narrow as if in deep thought. And now it seemed as if Ed's mind was tending to wander during their conversations, which was really just disastrous, because now _neither_ of them directed the topic. In fact, 'conversation' was becoming more like a pair of overlapping monologues on vaguely related subjects.

Roy shook himself and realized he needed to refer to a file located in the cabinet in the corner.

x

_Whoah, wait a minute, he's standing up. And it is a fucking full moon tonight, oh fuck. Oh, FUCK, he's walking around the desk. Ok, Ed, the moment has come…_

x

CRUNCHCRASH

"What the – WAUGH!"

"OH NO YOU DON'T, FUCKER!"

"AAAAAAAH!"

"YEAH THAT'S RIGHT, YOU AREN'T GETTING AWAY FROM ME NOW, FUCKING CREATURE OF THE NIGHT!"

"WAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUGHHHHHH!"


	3. Wowsies

_In which __Much is discussed._

* * *

******C**olonel Roy Mustang glared at Edward Elric.

Edward Elric returned the glare, with interest and maybe some cash dividends.

It was a week since The Incident. The Incident, which Roy survived due only to the intervention of a goddess who went by the name Riza Hawkeye. Never had the cocking of a gun sounded so sweet.

Mustang's subordinates were still puzzled that he had not reported Fullmetal's assault on his superior officer. The truth was, Roy harbored a deep, dark secret. A secret of lust and clavicles and… gayness. And his longing for a romp in the hay with Ed's suprasternal notch left him so guilty that Ed's attempt to impale him on a splintered chair leg felt… justified. Even though he still had _no idea_ why the boy _(Roy you pervert you pervert)_ had done it, especially while screaming incoherently about creatures of the night and nosferatu. What the hell?

Now the two alchemists sat opposite each other, one gaze hostile, the other guilty as hell. The owner of the guilty gaze had not tried to pierce a heart with an improvised stake the previous week.

Roy cleared his throat tentatively. "Well."

Ed folded his arms belligerently.

"Do… you want to tell me… um, why…?"

x

So, maybe Mustang wasn't a vampire after all. Ed could acknowledge now the confirmation bias that had early tainted his analysis of the situation. But what the hell, a lot of the weird crap in his life really _was_ caused by supposedly-mythical monsters, so who could blame him for expecting more of the same? Even the most diligent of scientists could have the occasional slip. However, this left the question: what the hell was Mustang's _problem_? What was with all the neck staring and darkened offices and—and—weirdness?

Oh, hell no. He wasn't the one who was going to be spilling his guts in this conversation.

x

"How about you tell _me_ why?"

A small spate of coughing. "Why, what?" Roy asked weakly.

"What's with the staring? And – and the lip-licking and the squirming around? You've been acting freaky for weeks. You freak. So what the hell is your _deal_?"

_play dumb roy play dumb he'll tear you apart play dumb_

"I really don't know what you –"

"Yes, _you do_. What is going on?"

"Fullmetal, I really –"

"The fuck, Mustang! You know what I'm talking about!"

"No, I really –"

"I will wait. I will wait days or maybe weeks or months and you will let your guard down and I will come to your house in the night and _kill you_ and write _Roy Mustang Wouldn't Tell Me Why_ on the walls in your blood. I will –"

Ed's teeth had sharpened, a forked tongue flickering out through his lips as his eyes shone demonically. The _hell_, and he was calling _Roy_ a freak? He hadn't seen something this frightening since Ishbal, and that was what he blamed for the following outburst:

"You have sexy clavicles!"

Silence.

x

What the fuck?

x

Oh. Oh, dear.

Ed stared at him blankly, but Roy knew it would be only moments before the weight of judgment crept into his eyes. The judgment of Roy's gay gay gayness.

"Um. Er. Look, it's, it's, just an aesthetic thing. I don't know why I said _sexy_, heh heh_._" He tittered nervously. "I should have said something more like 'nice' or 'symmetrical' or –"

"_Symmetrical?_ Half of one is _missing_, asshole, thanks for reminding me!"

Roy sputtered, offended at Ed's derogatory attitude. Could Ed not appreciate the fine set of clavicles nature had gifted to him? "Well, the acromial extremity, sure, but the sternal extremity—"

_oh my god roy you idiot just shut up shut up_

"—perfectly curved it's like it was _sculpted_, and was your automail designed to frame it like that? Because if so—"

_roy shut up the world needs you alive shut up SHUT UP_

x

What. The. Hell.

Ed gawked as Mustang waxed nearly poetic about Ed's clavicles.

"and the suprasternal notch—"

"_What_ are you _talking _about_?_"

"The suprasternal notch. It's the indentation—"

"I know what the suprasternal notch is! Why the hell are you babbling about _mine_?"

"Well, it's just that, you know, yours is, uh. Yes. Uh." Roy tried to regain some sort of coherency, and decide a rapid change of tack was in order. "You know, Fullmetal, perhaps we should just put this whole thing behind us." Did he really need to know why Ed had tried to kill him? Nah. Bygones.

"How 'bout we don't, and you tell me more about this whole 'sexy clavicle' thing?"

_oh shit roy oh shit shit gayness gay gay gay_

x

The Bastard gave him dismissive wave, and if Ed hadn't been looking for it he probably wouldn't have seen the nervous swallow.

"No, I think our conversation is finished. Until next week, Fullmetal."

Oh, fuck no.

The Bastard raised an eyebrow when Ed didn't move. "Dismissed."

Ed rested the heel of one boot on the opposite knee and ostentatiously made himself comfortable. The Bastard's eyes narrowed in response.

"All right, Fullmetal. You first. Why did you attack me?"

Dammit. Ed had really been hoping that question had fallen to the wayside. But hey, vampires. Mustang spent his time being namby-pamby behind a desk; he didn't get a bimonthly monster beauty pageant. Maybe a little banter about the ol' creepy-crawlies-blood-sucking-oozies would actually get a rise of the bastard.

"I thought you were a vampire."

"…"

Well, look at that.

x

Roy was at a loss for words, _again_, but this time kept his mouth firmly shut instead of letting a pool of drivel spill forth. Vampire?

His silence seemed to irritate Ed. He could see the blond's ire rising. As always, it rose very, very quickly, and the explosion was only moments later.

"What. _What?_ You were acting like a _freak_, what was I supposed to think? All the staring at my neck and lip-licking and the light sensitivity and Havoc bitching about your animal magnetism – and you know, it's not like my life is monster-free, do you know how much "mythical" shit I encounter on a weekly fucking basis? I'm spending my life searching for a fucking myth. So, why not vampires? I mean, how long ago did we establish you _have no soul_! What the fuck, sexy clavicles? _Sexy?_"

And suddenly, that was it. If Ed got to rant about his frustrations, why couldn't Roy? This was the brat's entire fault anyway _(except not roy because you are a dirty gay gay gay pervert p.s. you are gay)_ and Roy just snapped.

Roy's voice was lethal. "Ok Fullmetal, welcome to the adult world. In fact, welcome to _manhood_."

x

Holy shit. _Welcome to manhood?_ Was Mustang going to give him… the Talk? Please no.

"You see, one day soon, and I suspect it hasn't happened already because I have seen you around Miss Rockbell and you are _clueless_, but soon, you will look at a girl and you will notice something." Mustang leaned back into his chair, pressed the tips of his fingers together. "You will notice a feature, and the feature that you notice," his eyes snapped to Ed and regarded him intently, "that feature will determine the _kind of man that you are_.

"It might be her breasts. Or her ass. Legs are popular too. Or even her eyes, hell there really are some pure minds out there. But there is a rarer breed." Mustang was starting to look somewhat demented.

"Some of us, Fullmetal, look beyond the surface – " _blah blah_

"…very structure of the body, the delicate scaffolding that supports all the rest… bone structure … _clavicle_..."

Holy crap, this was the weirdest conversation ever, including all the weirdo homunculi babble he had to listen to like every three weeks.

"… pinnacle of evolution… contemplate the nature…"

_Blah, blah, blah_, did the man ever shut up?

x

Roy had truly warmed to his subject. As in, really, truly warmed.

"… but if you put a rose on a holly bush, it's still a rose, right? That doesn't mean you suddenly have a thing for sniffing holly!"

_roy you sound demented seriously time to shut up but that was really quite poetic_

"So just because I _happen_ to have been admiring your clavicles, does not mean that I'm… you know… it's not as if I'm…"

_starting to sound pretty weak now roy ha because you totally didn't before if only_

"Gay?" Ed suggested helpfully.

"_I AM NOT GAY!_"

x

Oh, this was beautiful. Especially because that last exclamation had been so loud it _had_ to have been heard in the outer office. Ed affected a serious demeanor.

"You sound pretty defensive about this, you know. Maybe you should, you know, find someone you can _talk_ to about it. If you're this upset about something… deeper reason… Freudian…"

Hell, if Mustang was allowed to be the Thing That Would Not Shut Up, why couldn't Ed be?

"So, you know, if you ever need a _shoulder_ to lean on, I'm here for you."

Mustang screamed.


	4. Interlude: Yikesies

*

* * *

_In which the Office gets the Wrong Idea._

* * *

**  
T**he outer office was very quiet. Edward had stalked through perhaps ten minutes before, glaring at anyone who tried to meet his eyes. The surprising thing was that every one of them returned a steely stare. Avoiding Ed's temper on an ordinary day was one thing, but he had assaulted _their_ Colonel the week before. Deadly glares were in order. Lieutenant Hawkeye's was particularly dire, but that was unsurprising given she had almost shot the kid the previous week. _And don't even think I wouldn't have done it_, those eyes seemed to say.

A nervous calm still filled the office, the loyal subordinates straining their ears for the first sign of a disturbance.

"_I AM NOT GAY!"_

But _that_ disturbance was quite unexpected.

Every head in the room whipped up like a mob of meerkats. The boss was stooping really low now, and a general feeling of incredulity swept through the room. The boss was calling the Colonel _gay_? Since when did he use "gay" as a derogatory term? And since when was that a sensitive topic for the Colonel? The man was practically the definition of heterosexual.

"Now this is just getting ridiculous." Hawkeye's remark pretty much spoke for everyone.

Havoc snorted. "And where the hell did he get that one? The Colonel has a date lined up for every night this week. With _women_."

Fuery looked upset at the accusation of his Colonel. "Maybe Edward is just jealous."

"I dunno, I've seen him around Miss Rockbell and he is _clueless_."

Breda scratched at his chin. "Or he's, you know… projecting."

Eyebrows rose. "Projecting?" Fuery asked.

Breda looked thoughtful. "You know, Edward is kind of hitting the age… if he's been feeling attracted to guys, maybe he's trying to distract himself by calling the Colonel gay. That would explain the sudden aggression too, if he's been projecting all that confusion on the Colonel. It's easier for him to be angry than deal with it."

Heads shook throughout the room. Poor Fullmetal.

"You know," Breda continued thoughtfully, "it really isn't healthy, to deny your own nature like that."


	5. Drinksies

*

* * *

_In which Roy is diabolical, and Events are set into Motion.__  
_

* * *

**  
B**alls if Roy Mustang was going to continue to feel guilty. Oh no. He was done with guilt. Guilt had left the building. So he admired a teenager's clavicles. So what? He hadn't tried to do anything about it. And he heard the secretaries talking about how hot Fullmetal was, and no one was criticizing _them_ for taking in an eyeful. So no more guilt.

This resolution had been helped along by the fact that Fullmetal was being… a dickwad. Seriously, a total dickwad. Yes, Roy had on occasion teased or mocked Fullmetal. It was all in good fun, how could he resist provoking someone so reactive? But there were topics he regarded as taboo, and he would really have preferred Fullmetal reciprocate the favor, especially regarding Roy's clavicle-admiring problem.

However, Fullmetal was now actually _removing_ his jacket when he came to give his reports, occasionally cocking his head to the side, or stretching his arms out in front of him, the better to display the stunning array of bones and tendons in his décolleté. Yes, that's right, his décolleté. Roy had taken to mentally referring to it as that just because he knew how it would incense Fullmetal. After he looked up the definition, of course (_décolleté,_ _n. the upper part of a woman's chest, below the neck_.) Hmph.

And then, the most glorious, glorious thing happened.

*

It was a Thursday. He rose from his desk chair and stretched his lower back, and decided it was time for some tea. He stuck his head out his door, looking for the least-occupied of his minions, only to see them deep in serious conversation. Even Hawkeye was paying attention to Breda, the master strategist.

"He's sixteen now, you know. That's old enough to get served. Maybe we could invite him out for a friendly drink, some low-key pub. Get him to open up."

"And what are you planning to do after that? I don't see the point in this," Hawkeye said in her Ultimate Voice of Reason tone.

"We just want him to _talk_ about it, Lieutenant!" Ah, Fuery. So tender-hearted. "This isn't good for him, you see the way he is around the Colonel now! Every time Edward gives his report the Colonel looks like he swallowed a lemon for at least an hour afterwards. Can you imagine how hard dealing with him must be?"

Wait, Edward? They were talking about Edward?

Falman nodded. "If we can just convince him that it is alright for him to feel this way, he would be less defensive. And stop taking his confusion out on the people around him. He's just lucky the Colonel is so understanding."

Havoc suddenly noticed Roy leaning against his doorframe. "Sir!"

Roy was frankly puzzled. What on earth were they talking about?

"What is this about Fullmetal?"

It was Breda who replied. "Well, sir, we're just concerned about the way he's been acting lately. He's so hostile towards you, and seriously… calling you gay? Everyone knows how many dates you have. So I thought, maybe _he's_ confused about his sexuality, and feels threatened by your reputation with the ladies, so he's projecting his confusion onto you."

"And it's just not healthy!" Fuery said. "He has so much stress in his life already, if he's feeling guilty because he thinks it's wrong to be attracted to men…"

"I have to admit, sir, he's seemed very off balance recently. The men have a point," Hawkeye said seriously.

Oh my. "What are you suggesting? You think… _Edward_… might be gay?" Roy asked slowly, feeling nervous. If they approached Edward about this, he would surely react by accusing Roy. And Roy's reputation could be ruined. Ruined! "Do you think I should talk to him?" Maybe he could just pretend he'd had a discussion with Edward, get them to drop it…

"Oh, no sir!" Breda exclaimed. "If he's already feeling threatened by you, I think that could only make it worse. I don't think a direct confrontation is a good idea, respectfully, sir."

"We were thinking maybe a casual night out, the conversation turns to women, men, birds and bees, maybe a couple of soldiers we knew and respected…" Havoc chimed in.

Falman sighed. "He might just deny it, you know."

A wonderful, brilliant, evil idea began to occur to Roy. "Yes," he carefully replied, "Who knows what kind of wild things he might say in his defense? But it still might be worth a try."

Roy outranked Edward. Roy was a grown man. Roy had the most well established reputation as a womanizer in East City. And a Clavicle Man? Who the hell had ever heard of a Clavicle Man? It was laughable. Any and all accusations coming from Ed's mouth were going to be dismissed as frantic efforts at misdirection by a confused, gay, hormonal, probably gay teenager.

Oh, revenge would be sweet.

*

In the end, it was only Breda, Havoc, and Fuery who took Ed out. Fuery because he was exceptionally non-threatening, Breda as master strategist, Havoc because he really, really wanted to be there. The presence of a woman was judged to be unwise, and Falman excused himself on the basis that too many people would be more likely to make Ed nervous. And course the Colonel, The Intimidating Incarnation of Ultimate Heterosexuality, would not attend.

Naturally, the evening began with the insistence Ed call them by their first names.

Breda (backslap): "Don't be silly, Ed! This isn't the office!"

"What'll you have, Ed? First one's on me," Havoc smiled jovially.

"Uh, thanks… Jean. Whiskey and water, I guess."

A chorus of sputters. "Ah, Ed, that's a little… strong… for someone your…" Ed glowered, "Age!" Havoc finished.

Ed shrugged. "It's what I always drank with Granny Pinako." He paused. "Well, sometimes without the water."

The three gazed at the pint-sized alchemist. Make that half-pint. Was he just trying to impress them…? But Ed never lied [without a good reason.] "Ah, right-o, Ed," and Havoc headed to the bar.

Breda stared after him. _Right-o?_ Huh, that really had thrown Havoc for a loop. Well, time to start steering the conversation towards the purpose of the night.

"So, Ed, sixteen now, huh?"

*

_What_ was _with_ these guys? They had been dancing around asking him if he was gay for two hours now. Havoc in particular was subtle like a brick upside the head. They could just _ask_. It would save time. And then maybe someone would take Fuery home; the guy was practically under the table.

"Look," Ed finally said. "I think you're a little confused here."

Breda halted mid "you know, sometimes a young man…"

Havoc sat forward, "Oh? How's that, Ed?"

"Well, you seem to be worried that I'm gay, and like, confused and upset about it."

Fuery coughed up beer. "Oh, Ed, we don't mean to make you uncomfortable, it's just we want you to know that, you know, if you _are_, it's ok," he gushed warmly. Drunkly. He really was a nice guy.

"Yeah, I know."

"Really, Ed, we're going to respect you no matter what," Breda said seriously.

"Well, that's good, 'cause you'd kinda be dicks if you didn't." Ed sucked on an ice cube. Man, these guys.

"We just want you to know that if you're feeling confused about your sexuality, it's ok. You don't have to let it upset you, you'll figure it out as you get older."

"Oh, I'm not confused about my sexuality." Well, _duh_. He had really had a higher opinion of the intelligence of these three.

The other men exchanged doubtful glances. Ed wanted to throttle them. Breda eventually hazarded, "Well, that's good, Ed. But know, if you ar—"

"I'm gay." Ed tossed back the last of his drink.

"But maybe you should have this conversation with the Colonel."

He raised his glass to attract the barman's attention. The house whiskey really wasn't bad at all.


	6. Fightsies

_In which Ed seeks Revenge, Roy loses Control, and First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye becomes involved._

* * *

**R**oy was in a _great_ mood, and had been since arising from his bed at the first ring of his alarm clock. He smiled through his ride into work and cast a tolerant eye over his paperwork, for once not cursing its vile existence. No, today he was at peace even with paperwork. It couldn't help its own detestable nature.

Roy felt young again, all a-bubble with hope and wonder. He had lain awake for some time the night before, giddily spinning the many different scenarios that could be playing out just a few blocks away. Had Ed shrieked so loudly the entire pub could hear? Did he dump a drink on Havoc? Did he storm out with his face that adorable red that spread right down his neck?

_Do not go there. He is not adorable. NOT. Adorable._

Completely non-adorable. But always good for a laugh. Oh, he couldn't wait to hear the tale.

x

Hawkeye and Falman were duly informed of the prior night's events by Havoc and Breda. Fuery nodded along weakly, still a little greenish around the gills.

"… and the kid can _drink_. He had us under the table. I always thought Havoc was exaggerating about nothing to do in the country but drink, but… I could _not_ do that when I was a kid. And what the hell, he's _tiny!_"

_(Everyone instinctively looked over their shoulder to check for Presence of Enraged Edward. Coast clear.)_

Havoc continued the story. "And then, get this, he tells _us_ that _we_ are confused, and that he's known he was gay pretty much since he could walk, and what's the big _deal_? Then he says, thanks for the drinks, pats Fuery on the back, and suggests we call a cab. Then walks out in the straightest line you've seen in your life."

"Aren't people from the country supposed to be kind of prudish? Don't give me that look, Havoc, I remember what you were like first year in academy. And I'm glad that, you know, Edward's ok, but… what the hell?"

x

Roy stood frozen a step outside the open office door. He had paused to listen to Havoc and Breda, wanting to hear the version of the story not tailored to the ears of their commanding officer. But then…

_Wait, *Ed* is gay?_

"And I'm glad that, you know, Edward's ok, but… what the hell?" he heard Breda say.

"Well… it's good to know Edward isn't having that sort of identity crisis." Hawkeye said slowly. "I suppose we underestimated some aspects of his upbringing…?" she finished on a questioning note.

"Oh, that's not even the weird part," Havoc's voice came.

"Then what _is_ the weird part?" Falman spoke for the first time.

There was a pause.

"He says we should talk to _the Colonel_ about his feelings about his sexuality."

"Why would the Colonel know about Edward's…" Hawkeye began bewilderedly. Roy hadn't heard her sound this tentative in _years_.

"No, talk to the Colonel about _the Colonel_'s sexuality," Breda clarified.

_oh shit oh shit oh shit_

_No. Breathe, Roy. Just wait, they'll all start chuckling now…_

No chuckles were forthcoming.

x

There was a silence.

Falman said, "Wait. He was trying to imply that the Colonel is confused about… you know…"

The Three Hangovers nodded simultaneously. Fuery appeared to regret it.

"Yeah," Breda confirmed. "And well, he's certainly in tune with his _own_ sexuality…"

"And they say it takes one to know one…" Havoc added uneasily.

"Oh, sir!" Falman exclaimed, the first to observed Mustang in the doorway. The subordinates all jumped to their feet and saluted.

x

Roy hadn't really meant to step into the room; just had the thought that enough was enough, and it was time for the conversation to end. The next moment, he was facing a group of saluting and very shifty-eyed subordinates.

Oh, his ire.

Steps:

1. Pull the utter dick move of not putting the saluting soldiers at ease.  
2. Gaze at individuals in the eye just long enough to make them very, very uncomfortable. Devote a few minutes to this task.  
3. Purr, "Please, don't let me interrupt."  
4. Move towards inner office, finally tossing "At ease" over shoulder.  
5. Panic. Hide in office to regroup.

_Oh, SHIT. Ed actually reports in today. Wait, when did I start thinking of him as 'Ed'?_

x

Ed strolled towards headquarters, a smirk playing around the corner of his mouth, a smirk similar to the one frequently worn by a certain bastard of his acquaintance. A bastard for whom he had done an enormous favor last night, really. Accepting one's true nature built character. And poor Roy would be so much happier after he did.

_Wait, when did I start thinking of him as 'Roy'?_

_Irrelevant. I just won't do it anymore._

He took the steps to the building two at a time. Funny how energizing a night of drinking could be. Whiskey. Nectar of the gods.

He started to whistle.

x

Part one of Step 5 went beautifully. Roy panicked very thoroughly, on the principle that if you are going to do something, you should do it right. It was the second part that was giving him trouble, the one where he regrouped and figured out how to regain control of the situation.

He heard a distant whistling sound, one that soon became less distant, and then quite distinct as it entered the outer office and resolved itself into the dulcet tones of a certain alchemist (whom he did not address by name). Soon a _knock knockknock knock_ sounded on his door, followed instantly by Ed. Fullmetal.

"You may enter, Fullmetal," Roy said dryly.

Ed (Fullmetal!) gave him a dazzling smile. (What the hell. Men did not 'dazzle'. At least, not this colonel.) "Good morning, Colonel!"

That little shiteater.

"_You little shiteater,"_ Roy hissed. He saw the flare of rage in Ed's eyes at the word _little_, but it was quickly eclipsed by a wide, shit-eating grin.

Oh, Ed knew what he'd done. What's more, he clearly knew that Roy knew what he'd done, because the nincompoops in the outer office, while stellar at keeping their mouths shut around undesirables, had never been able to conceal anything from Roy for more than forty-three minutes as soon as he was in the same building.

"Whatsa matter, Mustang? Feeling a little _conflicted_ today? Maybe a little _confused_?"

"I – _you_ – do you have any idea what this little stunt could cost me? I have a _reputation_. The "women want me, men want to be me" kind of reputation, and I like it that way –"

"WHAT WAS THAT, COLONEL?" – Ed raised his voice to be clearly audible in the outer office – "_WHICH_ WAY DID YOU SAY YOU LIKED IT? HUH, _ME TOO_, _HOW SURPRISING!_"

"This is ridiculous. Is there something you want? You could just come out and say it –"

"COME OUT? I THINK THAT'S A _GREAT IDEA! _" God above, they must be able to hear him on the parade ground.

"IN FACT, MAYBE YOU SHOULD_** hnkk **__–" _

x

Ed was having a fantastic time baiting the Colonel, right up until the man lunged, and his attempt to stifle Ed's caterwauling with a hand clamped over his mouth somehow resulted in his hands sort-of-maybe-actually around Ed's throat.

Strict justice would have dictated Ed acknowledge that Roy had merely been attempting to press his hands over Ed's mouth. Ed's sense of justice, however, was about as miffed as the rest of him as regarded Roy's hands wrapped around Ed's neck, and declined all comment. This left Ed with free reign to retaliate, which he did.

Strict justice would have dictated Roy acknowledge that people in general do not like be throttled, regardless of their attacker's originally [comparatively] benign intent. Justice might also have suggested that Roy's original intent was not all that benign to begin with, and perhaps the mysterious placement of his hands around Ed's neck was not in fact very mysterious. Roy was not inclined to be all that just after his right instep had been stomped by a metal foot, and also wanted to add for the record that while his hands were around Ed's neck, they were not squeezing.

Strict justice would have dictated that after viciously stomping Roy's foot a moment to allow the man to release his neck might have been in order, rather than transition seamlessly to throwing the man to the ground.

Self-preservation would have dictated Roy then release Ed's neck.

x

_Oh the trachea under his palms, the cervical vertebrae beneath his fingers as they cradled the occipital bone __OH SHIT THAT EXPRESSION ON HIS FACE IS BAD BAD BAD  
_

x

_He smells kinda good THE PYSCHO ASSHOLE_

x

_You are kidding not again they need a damn mediator WHERE IS MY GUN OH OF COURSE_

x

"_Edward, release the Colonel!_" *****_**ka-chak**_*****

It was unfortunate for Ed, and not really fair, that Hawkeye burst into the room at the point when he was on top of the Colonel, and she couldn't observe the Colonel's hands around his neck from her vantage point in the doorway. Ed, for the second time in a month, found himself locking eyes with a vengeful sharpshooter [whom he feared less than only one other woman in the world]. He removed himself from his position pinning Roy to the floor, and of course the bastard _then_ released his throat. And then the finger-pointing began.

"He was trying to strangle me!"

"I was not!"

"Then what the fuck were your hands doing around my neck? And here I thought you were a _clavicle man_. _CHANGING TEAMS, MUSTANG?_"

"I – _you –" _

"THAT'S ENOUGH! Clearly, there is something going on here unrelated to your _professional _relationship, and I think for the sake of us all it is time to resolve it."


	7. Interventionsies I

_In which Lieutenant Hawkeye begins Mediation, and is met with some Resistance.__  
_

* * *

******L**ieutenant Hawkeye sat in one of the armchairs in Colonel Mustang's office, opposite the couch, her posture erect. The Colonel was seated upon one end of said couch, and Edward on the other. Both had their arms crossed and pointedly looked away from the other. It was truly in the top five Eye-Rolling Moments in the life of Riza Hawkeye, edging out that time Havoc fell off a bar stool leaning too far to watch a woman's ass out the door.

It would be so easy to shrug and say, _Men_, or perhaps more accurately, _Boys_; but Riza firmly believed that people were people, man or woman, city or country, race or creed, all equally capable of idiocy. This unfortunately left the conclusion that she now faced not two beings trapped by their innate weaknesses, but a pair of idiots.

"You are a pair of idiots," she didn't say.

"I tender my resignation because I can't take this anymore," she didn't say.

"For the love of god and country, just declare your undying love and get the hell on with it," she didn't say.

Oh wait, yes, she did.

x

"For the love of god and country, just declare your undying love and get the hell on with it."

_Oh, *Riza*. Why? Why must you do this to me?_

She had elevated respectful silence to an art form, and had pioneered new depths of expression via the monosyllable, but by god when she decided to actually say something she didn't mince words.

She continued to speak.

"Colonel, you have been mooning around for months, and I'm very aware that your 'Leg Man' façade is exactly that, a façade. The way you have been ogling Edward's pectoral girdle and cervical vertebrae is simply obscene, sir."

Roy froze in horror. _Oh god. She's not human._

He hazarded a glance in Edward's direction, seeing the glassy stare of a cornered rabbit that he was sure mirrored his own features. Oh, she was a predator, all right. A nasty one with big scary teeth like daggers of truth and claws of I-know-what's-best-for-you.

"Edward," she continued, and Roy saw Ed's twitch from the corner of his eye, "I had thought you were too young to have thought about these things – and that you, sir, were being very inappropriate – but given how aware of your sexual orientation you appear to be… your efforts to torment the Colonel really look a lot like flirting."

_You know, she has a point._

x

"_Clearly_, your attraction is mutual. And for the sake of yourselves and every member of this office, perhaps you might consider doing something about it."

_Yeah, he's attractive, but whatever, like there aren't tastier fish in the sea that don't come deep-fried in bastard oil with an extra-large side of jackass._

_He does smell good, though._

_What the hell. There are more fragrant fish, too. I am *not* going to 'do something about it' because there is no 'it'. And what the fuck, flirting?_

"_Flirting?_ I wasn't _flirting, _I don't _flirt_, I'm not a _girl_ – uh, not that, it's uh, a bad thing, you know, to be a girl, I mean uh, woman, I mean I respect women, I'm just, you know, not one, uh." _Whoa, look at that glare, drop that topic like a hot rock._ "But I sure as hell wasn't flirting with _him_, it was just payback for perving over my clavicles or sternum or whatever the hell his kinky thing is, all I wanted was for him to stop creeping me out."

Roy's head suddenly snapped around. "Oh, _really_," he hissed. "Yes, of course, you coming in here and draping yourself all over the furniture with your buttons unbuttoned was _in no way _provocative. How silly of me not to have realized sooner that your actual intent was to turn me off."

Ed sputtered. "What, like I _wanted_ you to look at me? You fucking narcissist, you just think everyone –"

"—after all, you did somehow manage to conclude I was a _vampire_, obviously your thought processes aren't something to compare to a normal –"

"_Oh_, just bring _that_ up again, why don't you –"

"—all of this because I happened to let slip that you had a nice set of clavicles, you _could_ have just taken it as a compliment, totally innocent, but no—"

"—as if you weren't acting like a psycho vampiric perv, and you know just because I happen to be gay doesn't mean I'm salivating to jump your tender supposedly-hetero bones—"

"— just because a rose happens to be located on a holly bush, that doesn't mean it isn't a rose, and it _certainly _doesn't mean a man suddenly has a thing for sniffing holly—"

"Oh _god_, don't _ever_ use that metaphor again, once was bad enough, do the fucking world a fucking favor—"

"_OH_ now that's rich, criticism about abusing language from the pipsqueak whose favorite adjective is 'fucking'—"

"WHO'S SO SHORT HE CAN'T REACH A THESAURUS ON THE TOP SHELF?"

x

"**THAT'S ENOUGH,"** Riza bellowed in her Parade Ground Voice.

Blessed silence.

_God, anything, anything to get them to work through this in a venue other than within my earshot. Ha. 'Shot'. Now there's an idea. Rack your brains Riza, there has to be a way to deal with this. Them._

"I am going to give you a piece of paper, and you are each going to write down five things you like about the other, _I know there are at least five_, Edward, and I sincerely hope yours won't be a list of anatomical terms, sir. You have five minutes."

Yes, it was ridiculous, and she had not signed up to be a couples' counselor, but honestly, who else was going to do it? Idiots.


	8. Interventionsies II

_In which there is Immaturity, and a Restaurant is mentioned.__  
_

* * *

******Ri**za Hawkeye pressed her lips tightly together as she read the two pieces of paper. She took three deep breaths. Then counted to ten. Then took another three deep breaths, just to see if it helped the second time. Nope.

She removed her gun from its holster and placed it on the table.

"We're going to try this again," she said.

x

Roy felt a cold wash of fear. Riza, of course, would never actually shoot either Ed or Roy; instead, putting her gun out of her own reach was a message. _I am so extremely annoyed I feel the need to put myself beyond temptation_. _You are being an utter idiot and if you value your quality of life you will shape up before you land yourself in an administrative nightmare of my diabolical creation._ Riza had the ability to triple the volume of his work, and was so skilled that he would never, ever be able to prove that a single piece of paper was unnecessary. Her revenge could last for _months_.

Judging from the expression on his face, Ed just thought Riza was about to shoot them both.

In any case, Roy's next list had better not contain any items along the lines of _Fullmetal is so short he can be easily ignored, thank god_ or _Fullmetal only reports in periodically, at least he isn't a *daily* pain in the ass._

x

Ed swallowed with difficulty. Holy crap, this lady was scary. She didn't have anything on Sensei, but damn, those were some steely eyes. And a steely gun. Maybe putting _lazy fuck asleep all the time can't bother me_ had been over the top. Or perhaps it was _so freaking old going to die before me ha_ that had really done it.

"Colonel," she said, "Why don't you just tell us one thing you like or find admirable about Edward?"

Oh, _this_ was going to be good. Ha.

x

_Oh, for the love of fuck, Riza. Don't even give me that you-are-an-adult-act-like-it look. _

_Oh fine._

"Edward knows a great deal about alchemy," he said smoothly.

Ed snorted. "That's not something you like about me, that's just a fact! And what do you mean 'about alchemy', like that's the only thing I know!"

"I think we'll accept that for now, Edward," Riza said flatly. "It's your turn."

"Oh, _fine_. He didn't turn us in when we were kids, that was good."

_My god, was that *gratitude* I heard?_

x

An hour or so later it had been established that the Colonel was at least sort of intelligent, was good to Al, watched out for his subordinates, and the fire thing was kind of impressive, kind of. Also, it seemed Edward was very loyal, would do anything for his brother, had never actually physically harmed a person for remarking on his height, and tried to help people even when it didn't benefit him at all. The two were actually looking at each other with somewhat reduced animosity. It was time for the next step.

Riza began jotting down a list. She handed it to the Colonel. It read:

1. Travel.  
2. Xingian cuisine.  
3. Mustaches.  
4. Dogs.  
5. Alchemy.  
6. General Hakuro.  
7. Serial killers.  
8. That time Havoc fell off the barstool leaning to watch a woman's backside out the door.  
9. Alphonse.

"The two of you are going to go to dinner together, during which time you will discuss those topics." Ed leant to read the list over the Colonel's shoulder.

Riza was quite proud of that list. She had carefully included topics to ridicule, topics to bitch about, and topics to laugh about. Alchemy because they would end up talking about it anyway. A little intellectual discourse never hurt anything, and if they would get their Heads out of their Asses they would recognize their meeting of minds as a prime reason they belonged together. 'Travel' she regarded as a stroke of genius, hopefully they would realize they had some things in common. Discussing Alphonse always mellowed Edward, and there were only good things to say about him. It would warm their hearts.

x

Five minutes later, she interrupted an epic argument about where they would go for dinner to firmly recommend a restaurant.

"I'll make the reservation myself. Just show up! That's all you have to do! This is _not that difficult!_ Now we are _done, for now_. For now. You will report back to me tomorrow. Sir."

She stalked out of the office, leaving the two men (boys) gawking after her. A scary, scary woman.


	9. Eatsies

_In which Food and Drink are consumed.__  
_

* * *

**O**k, let's look at this fucking list. I say we skip travel, we'll just end up talking about me blowing stuff up and your eye will do that twitchy thing."

"My eye does not – whatever. You know, I think alcohol could help this along. What do you drink?"

"Whiskey."

"God, Edward, not with dinner. Red or white?"

"Snob. Whatever."

"A bottle of the house red, please? Thank you."

"What's next? Xingese cuisine?"

"I like it."

"Me too."

"Well, that took a long time."

"I like that thing with the peanuts."

"Oh, and the beef?"

"Yeah, holy crap that's good."

x

"How ridiculous is this list? Mustaches."

"I've never liked them."

"Heh. They do look pretty dumb."

"And it's really just about laziness. So shaving your upper lip is annoying, it's a tragic burden of being a man."

"… yes."

"Ed, you can't grow a beard."

"Yet. Whereas you aren't ever going to be able to, baby face."

"Oh, shut up. You're one to talk. Blond as you are, you won't be able to either."

"That's what you think. My dad had a fucking forest on his face. Which is why, testosterone-laden as I am, I am never going to have one of those things."

x

"I just don't get it, it's like they love me. Doesn't matter what kind, as soon as they see me all they want is to pin me to the floor. It's weird."

"Maybe they're just drawn to your testosterone-ladeness."

"They're _dogs_, why - ok, can the sarcasm if you know what's good for you."

x

"Hermetic…"

"Theory…

"Dee… Kepler…"

"Flamel…"

"Kelly was a psycho, what are you talking about?"

"Whereas Sifer had both feet on the ground, really."

"Fuck you! – WHAT THE FUCK, DID YOU JUST SNAP?"

"It wasn't going to be a big one! Just to let off some stress! It's a reflex!"

"A reflex? Well, maybe I have a few REFLEXES of my own."

"Ed, _please_, everyone is staring. Sorry, ma'am. Sorry."

"YOU JUST TRIED TO KILL ME."

"No, god Ed, please, don't do that."

"You are totally paying for all of this."

"Fine. Fine. Just no spikes."

"And you idiot, do you usually try to attack people without your gloves on?"

"Ah, another bottle, miss? Thank you."

x

"The Lieutenant is really, really scary, by the way."

"You have _no idea_. I made her really mad once, and I was so depressed about the reports she buried me in Hughes took me out drinking. Then? He talked me into going over to her apartment _to apologize._ The only thing she said to me for a week was 'here is the next set of files sir, they need to be finished within the next ten minutes'."

"What were you doing, sleeping all day?"

"Well… no. She was, um, wearing the uniform skirt that day…"

"You are a sick bastard with a death wish if you mean what I think you mean."

"And she was walking out the door, but then she looked over her shoulder to shay shomething…"

"And here I thought you were a _clavicle_ man."

"Oh, shut up, we've beaten that into the fucking ground already. And you have clearly never sheen that woman's ass if you think _anyone_ could be indif-indifferent to it."

x

"Douche."

"Douche."

x

"You know, that's really just depreshing. And gruesome."

"Let's just say they're bastards and deserve to die. Especially the ones who use alchemy. Now move on."

"I can't believe she thinks that's dinner convershation."

"Funny how ten years in the military will warp you like that."

"Shuddup."

x

"The thing was… he was actually doing well that night. He'd been talking to a woman for more than an hour and she sheemed to like him. But he really likes curvy women… and she walked by…"

"And he fell off the bar stool?"

"Heh. Yeah. And like the other woman could ignore that… she dumped'er beer on him. And then his beer. And shettept on him. And went home with Breda."

"Whoah, there, watch out for your wine glass! Oh. That's gonna stain. You know, that's why everyone should wear black."

x

"…if I could just get him to leave the cats alone. I always feel bad making him put them back, but what are we going to do? Take them with us? Bouncing around inside Al?"

"He'sh just sho shoft-hearted."

"Yeah… there isn't anyone like Al."

"No. And no one elshe who could control you…"

"Shut up, drunkard."

x

"Whoah, let's just get you up these steps –"

"You're cute."

"Yeah, I know. You've been telling me for fifteen minutes."

"And you really do have nishe claviclesh."

"Uh huh, you've said."

"You really do. And you're shmart."

"You look out for us. And you smell really good…"

"Mmph."

"Mmph."


	10. Wakesies

_In which our two Heroes awake, to very different Thoughts.__  
_

* * *

******R**oy woke on a surface that was not his bed to a view that was not of his ceiling to a sound that was not his alarm clock. He had a creeping sense that those were not the only things wrong in his world.

He slowly realized that the incorrect ceiling was the result of his location on his living room couch as opposed to his bed. _Ah. Must have been drunk._ The sound he eventually _oh my god my head my head_ recognized as his telephone, and knocked over a vase or two staggering to answer it.

"_Chief," _came Havoc's whispering voice.

"Mrrng."

"_Uh, sir, you had really better get in here," _Havoc continued in the hushed tone of a man looking over his shoulder to check for the approach of a certain Lieutenant. _"She's looking kind of, um…"_

"Rrrn?"

"_Forty-five minutes, sir."_

"Thmmm."

"_All right, I'll send a car. See you soon, chief."_

"Grmmf."

Oh, shit. An angry Lieutenant, as if that fiasco yesterday wasn't bad enough –

Oh, _shit_.

So that was the source of the creeping sense of unease. A surreal evening spent… enjoying… the company of Edward Elric, Fullmetal Alchemist and Fulltime Pain-in-the-Ass. Ed hadn't even resorted to spikes when provoked, which was downright indulgent of him. He hadn't punched Roy when Roy cast a vaguely recalled aspersion on Ed's ability to grow beard. Followed by Ed good-naturedly dragging Roy's drunk ass home, and, oh right, a goodnight kiss. Oh god, on the couch was the blanket that usually hung over the back of the armchair. Ed hadn't just shoved him through the door; he'd settled Roy on the couch, and covered him with a blanket all cozy-like.

He'd had a date with Ed. He'd had a _good_ date with Ed. If he went on another date, he'd be… _dating_ Ed. And based on Ed's behavior… Ed might actually like him. Enough to not maim him, or at least tie him to a bell tower, when he was completely at Ed's mercy.

He was now far beyond the realm of oh-no-I-might-be-gay. He had crossed into eh-so-I-swing-both-ways and now wasn't even thinking about it anymore. No, what he was thinking about was the pure insanity of any kind of romantic interaction with Edward Elric. Daydreaming about licking a trapezius was one thing, enjoying Ed's company quite another; and Roy knew which was more disturbing.

But damn it all, Ed was brilliant. Ed was loyal and kind. Ed had great big pretty eyes and clavicles to die for, but Roy wasn't so sure that was what this was about anymore. The more he thought about it, and he couldn't _stop_ thinking about it, he found his thoughts circling back to that spirited alchemy argument, and the look on Ed's face when he talked about Al, and the amused, patient tone of his voice as he steered Roy home.

That blanket. That was messing with his mind. Ed had _tucked him in_.

"_Go to sleep, idiot. Next time I'm cutting you off after the first bottle."_

Next time?

x

Ed yawned like a cavern and stretched like a cat, then rolled his head on his neck to a sound like popping corn.

Ah. Yes. Mustang.

What a cute drunk.


	11. TouchyFeelsies

_In which there is an Irresistible Romantic Atmosphere.__  
_

* * *

**I**t had really gone about as well as could be expected. The second "counseling session" with the Lieutenant, that is.

Edward had been smug, under a thin veneer of blasé. Roy wondered when exactly it had been ordained that the punishment for his many sins would come in the form of attraction (and maybe affection, maybe, maybe) towards the biggest brat he had ever had the misfortune to know. What's more, _Riza_ had seemed quite smug, like everything was going according to some secret genius plan, and also like she knew exactly how nice that goodnight kiss had been. It felt like a damn conspiracy.

The upshot was another mandated dinner with Ed for the following evening, to include a cozy bistro and a stop for an ice cream and stroll in a nearby park. Oh, and another list. Yes, Lieutenant. We will, Lieutenant.

Funnily enough, what they actually ended up talking about for most of dinner was what it was like to have your life dominated by scary, crazy, [amazing] women, and how one day Ed and Roy were going to rise up and have no more of it. There was also speculation over exactly what sort of hallucinogen had appeared in the Lieutenant's morning coffee to produce a list of conversational topics that included "mutant fly cinema". (_Totally awesome! Those compound eyes were amazing! You know, I saw this fly once, I swear it had three eyes…)_

So here they were in a twilit park, Ed with distracting chocolate smudged around his mouth. Fortunately Roy had forgone alcohol with dinner. He had learnt his lesson. Edward Elric, Unscrupulous Kisser of Drunken Colonels, was not going to take advantage of a vulnerable man tonight, no sir. Not even with alluring chocolate in the corners of his mouth.

Fireflies were coming out, and that slightly soft smile on Ed's face was just _not fair_. Appealing brat. Roy turned abruptly away, looking for anything to fix his attention other than Ed. Ah. A fountain. Lovely. Must take closer look.

x

Ok, Ed had to admit it. The Colonel was so. _Cute_. The conversation during dinner had been fluent, but every now and again Roy seemed to realize anew that he was on A Date with Ed, and his eyes would suddenly get wide and shifty, darting around as if to check for an escape route. It was adorable. And apparently something similar had just happened; Roy had suddenly stiffened and wheeled towards a fountain off to the side. Ed grinned and followed.

Fine. Ed was smitten. It was all Roy's own damn fault, not to mention that diabolical Lieutenant. She was a menace, no mistakes there. And between Babbling Roy being hysterically funny, and ok really hot, and nice-smelling, and Lieutenant Hawkeye getting them to have real conversation… Damn.

Hee. It was time to kick this date up a notch. He unbuttoned his jacket.

"You can really see more stars in here, huh?" he said, tipping his head waaaaaay back to look at the sky. Upon further demonic thought, he turned it into a full-out, arm-extended, arched-back stretch.

_Teasing him? What? Please. You'd have to have some sort of weakness for clavicles for this to affect you… heh heh heh…_

Success. Roy's sound of assent turned into a weird strangled cross between a whimper and a groan as he turned and confronted the topography of Ed's sternum.

x

"…stars in here, huh?"

Roy's pulse throbbed merrily in his ears.

_oh I hate you Ed oh I do_

It wasn't possible that Ed was unaware of the tempting view he was providing. He kept his head tipped back as he prattled on about stars in the countryside or some other complete irrelevancy as compared to… clavicles… suprasternal… notch…

_*drool*_

Roy's baser nature had really been complicating his life lately.

_Oh, look at that. It's my hand. Why is my hand moving towards Ed's throat? I'm not telling it to. In fact, I'm going to tell it not to. Stop it, Hand. Cease. Desist. This is Roy speaking. Roy's Hand, halt. Left Hand! You stop right there you fucker don't you dare touch that clavi—oh, fuck you, Hand. Fuck you._

Well, here they were. A date, a kiss, another date, and now the touchy feely finger tracing along Ed's right clavicle, Roy completely unable to take his eyes off it. Until, that is, he caught sight of the grin on Ed's face, and hey, those mandibles were actually quite sexy, how had Roy not noticed before? Maybe he should touch one of those, too, oh look, he already was, in fact he was touching both, and maybe a couple of zygomatic bones too, oh hell, you might even say he was cupping Ed's face in his hands.

Roy's eyes had gone goofy and unfocused as soon as they fastened onto Ed's collarbone, and Ed grinned. It was nice to have found a side of the Colonel that was one hundred and ten percent predictable. But his grin faded as Roy's gaze slowly traveled past Ed's throat and jaw line and sharpened as he met Ed's eyes.

_Oh, whoa, uh, he has really dark eyes, uh, oh, he's actually kind of really sexy…_

Ed took an involuntary step closer at the same time Roy's hands on his face shifted just a little, tipping it up to the perfect angle for a kiss, and _oh holy hell_ kissing Non-Drunk Roy was a very different experience and the top of Ed's head might possibly be about to come off. One of Roy's hands dropped away from Ed's face as he wrapped an arm around his waist.

_Mmmm. He really does smell good._

"Come home with me."

"Yes."


	12. Betsies

_In which there is Indecency, and Gambling, and also some more Revenge.  
_

* * *

******T**he Colonel was. So. Cheerful.

It was quite sudden. He'd been snarly lately, when he wasn't moping. But this morning he had nearly bounced with cheer as he entered the office, which was absolutely insane under the circumstance of being_ an hour and a half late_.

Insanity crossed into complete surrealism when Lieutenant Hawkeye glanced up, observed the Colonel for a moment, and _smiled_ faintly to herself. Something was very, very wrong with the world. Purely bizarre, absolutely strange.

Breda was a master of strategy. He applied his considerable mental powers to the problem.

Edward. Edward had also been through a very sudden change in mood recently. From surly, to absolutely murderous, to grinning like a cat that had got into some particularly delicious cream. (Uh, maybe not cream. Something non-dairy, obviously. Hell, the simile was not the point!) And that change had occurred… after that night out. The night that he casually declared he was gay, and suggested the Colonel might be too.

No way.

Except, maybe... it all added up. It really did...

x

"No way."

"Ho ho. You sound so sure about it."

Havoc goggled. "Do you _know_ how many of my girlfriends he's stolen? And say, maybe, he is, you know, bimodal, none of my girlfriends were _sixteen._"

"Uh, not to make too fine a point of it, but a woman isn't your girlfriend if you never manage to get her to go on a date."

"Shut up, Heymans. And I still say there is no way."

"Wanna put some money on that?"

x

Fuery was scandalized. "The Colonel would never do that! Ed's sixteen! And a subordinate! If the Colonel hasn't ever broken the rules to go after," Fuery lowered his voice, "_the Lieutenant_, he certainly isn't going to for _Ed_! There's no way!"

"Wanna put some money on that?"

x

"You know, Falman, if you think it's that ridiculous, maybe you should put your money where your mouth is."

"Lieutenant, there is absolutely no way there is anything going on between those two."

"So… how much would you like to put on that?"

x

"You know, if you paid this much attention to your own personal life, you would probably get more dates."

"Come on, Lieutenant, stop avoiding the question."

"Actually, I think you make a very persuasive argument."

"You – you do?"

"Yes."

"So you want to bet that they _are_? Everyone else thinks there's no way!"

"In confidence? I disagree. And let's double that amount, I'm feeling lucky."

x

Three days later, clearly, yes way.

"Well, I guess that explains just about everything," Havoc said gloomily. "Except the creature-of-the-night thing," Another thump was heard in the inner office, followed by peals of laughter.

Fuery groaned. Falman scowled. Breda gloated. The past few days had featured a series of "important debriefings" with Edward that lasted too long and left both Edward and the Colonel in the sort of good mood that could only have one cause. In addition to their newly acquired poverty, The Three Suckers complained bitterly about the ruckus. Breda suspected they would be more tolerant if they hadn't been personally impoverished by the events.

"They have _no shame_. They're like a couple of teenagers," Fuery whined. The rest of the office stared at him. "Oh. Right."

One of them was a teenager.

x

Lieutenant Hawkeye smiled serenely, and daydreamed about that FN Model 1910.

Although, one week later…

x

_God damn it this was supposed to stop the fuss from happening in the office, not expose us all to the soundtrack of a pornographic film. If Fuery blushes for much longer he is going to permanently damage those capillaries. If I hadn't made so much money off of this... ooooh. _

**THUMP**

"Don't you even - Roooooooy! You - ah - sadist!"

**THUMP**

**LAUGHTER**

**LAUGHTER**

**LAUGHTER  
**

_I think I'll make a phone call._

x

"_Roy! It's been so long!"_

"So naturally, you chose to call me while at work."

"_Well, you know, just a quick check in. Soooooooo, anything new in your life?"_

"…"

"I wonder what it's like to have a First Lieutenant who doesn't interfere in one's personal life at every turn."

_"I have no idea what you're talking about! Although now that you mention your personal life, please, tell me about every *little* thing. I'd hate to think I'm getting *behind*. It would leave me open to be the *butt* of so many jokes!"_

"One day I will flash-fry you."

_"Whoa, touchy today! Seriously, though, Roy, if a certain fixation of yours finally came back to bite you in the *ass*…"_

x

Riza smiled as the distinct sound of a head banging repeatedly on a desk came from the Colonel's office. Revenge was sweet. And not over yet.

Time for another phone call.

x

"Is there anything you would like to tell me, Brother?"

"Ummm… no?"


	13. Heart to Heartsies

_In which there is brotherly Love.  
_

* * *

******A**l appeared to be nearing the end of his opening remarks.

"...and if you want me to kill him I will." Finally.

Ed frequently thought that Al had made up for his inability to convey emotion through facial expressions by developing the most expressive voice of all time. Right now it was managing to project sincerity, concern, loving acceptance, and diabolical, smirking humor.

Ed did his best to avoid talking about his love life with Al, or for that matter Al's love life. Not out of some misguided attempt to shield Al from the facts of life – Al was only a year younger than Ed, after all – but because Ed _hated_ dealing with Al's reaction.

While Ed had recognized his own sexuality at a very young age, he hadn't talked to Al about it until Ed was fourteen, and starting to think about, you know, doing something about it. Ed had been about ninety percent sure that Al would never think any less of him, but that remaining ten percent made him dread the revelation.

Was Al shocked? No. Was he disgusted? No. Was he anything Ed had feared he might be? No, of course not.

Al was nearly incapacitated by laughter. In fact, if he had been in possession of a body, Ed was sure he would have injured himself. He pointed and laughed until he fell over and rolled on the floor. Al found Ed's sexual orientation and romances _hilarious_.

The _brat_, after that one first incident, never, ever laughed at Ed again. Instead, he deviously found out whenever Ed had a boyfriend and confronted him with every appearance of support and concern for Ed's emotional health to feast upon Ed's discomfort. Ed never managed to successfully call him on it, because Al became so wounded and innocent whenever Ed tried that Ed would actually begin to doubt that he wasn't sincere in his expressions of support. Maybe he really was sorry for that first bout of laughter. Then Ed would walk out of the room after twenty minutes of embarrassed writhing and realize that in the past two years pigs had not flown and hell had not frozen over and his baby brother had not become less evil.

Today, it was about to get worse.

"No, no Al, it's not like that."

"Are you sure? I known you've had – special friends? Is that what you call them? – Anyway, I know you've had… um, close personal time with… people… before, but the Colonel? He seems you know, a little, so, so, SO much older than you. Are you sure he didn't just talk you into this?"

"What the hell, Al! You really think he could just manipulate me into a relationship?"

"Well, he _is_ awfully good at getting his own way. Plus, what about the risks?"

"Oh, come on, like the military actually cares what we do."

"But brother, think of his reputation! What about STDs?"

_This_ was a new direction for Al's heart-to-hearts.

"_Al_, oh my _god_ –"

"Herpes is forever, Brother."

"What are you – since when do –"

"Do you know what gonorrhea can do to your fertility? Epididymitis can be nearly undetectable until you're scarred for life!"

"Al,_ please_, we do not need to have this conversation – _you_ are scarring me for life –"

"So I asked Lieutenant Hawkeye for some advice –"

Ed moaned faintly. That woman…

" – and she suggested I talk to someone in the infirmary –"

"_What?_"

"—so I talked to this really nice lady, and told her I was concerned about my brother's relationship with an older man –"

"_Al_! Oh my god, the entire base is going to know now…"

"I didn't mention any names!"

"Al, _you are a suit of armor_. IT'S NOT THAT HARD TO PUT TOGETHER."

"Don't be silly, Brother. Anyway, she said I was right to be concerned, since anal sex can be particularly hazardous –"

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that."

"I got you some pamphlets."

"_No_, Al. No pamphlets."

"And I think we should look through them together. This one is called 'Don't Get Caught Slippin' in Yo Pimpin''."

"It's called _what_? What does that even mean?"

"'Don't Get Caught Slippin' in Yo Pimpin'. And this one is called "Sex, Let's Wait A While' – oh, too late –"

"_How do you think you know what I have and haven't done?"_

"I know 'Ain't No Shame, Ladies Do Yo Thang' doesn't seem like it would apply, but there is some stuff about the not letting a man sweet talk you into hittin' it raw that I think you should read.

"Brother? Ed? Where'd you go?"


	14. Interlude: Spysies

_In which there is Snooping.  
_

* * *

******T**wo alchemists sat side by side on Their Bench near headquarters, eating ice cream. This was Their Afternoon Tradition of three weeks standing

A group of very nosy people observed the alchemists from a convenient window that was nowhere near their assigned office.

"So are they picking out curtains yet?" Breda snorted.

"I can't believe they reached the daily ice cream date so quickly," Havoc muttered. "That's not supposed to be until after at least a month. It took them what, a week? Falman?"

Falman flipped through The Notebook. "Hmm… we never really pinned down the exact date the relationship began, but my best calculation is they reached the ice cream stage somewhere between days four and eight."

"You've narrowed it down to within four days?" Havoc sounded impressed.

"Well, based on the date of the Colonel's excessive cheerfulness as submitted by Lieutenant Breda, and the apparent cessation of hostilities between the two subjects a few days before, not forgetting Lieutenant Hawkeye's suspected foreknowledge of the developing situation, and our estimation of Edward's degree of easiness, the presumed event should have occurred…"

x

"Oh, and now they're doing the feeding each other ice cream thing," Breda snorted again. "Gag me with a goddamn spoon. For a man who was shouting 'I am not gay' last month, the Colonel sure has adjusted quickly."

"That isn't very nice!" exclaimed Fuery. "I think it's good to see them so happy."

"That's right, Breda," Havoc grinned. He always found the clash of Fuery's angelic naiveté and Breda's cynicism amusing. "How can you scoff at young love?" He rolled his eyes.

"'Young' being an operative word."

Snickers.


	15. Crunksies

**o**

* * *

_In which there is a Bad Idea.  
_

* * *

**T**he office had discovered another downside to the Colonel's new relationship. Namely, his reaction to Life Without Ed now that Ed was off on a mission.

Hardcore moping. Frequent sighs. Mournful demeanor.

It was at least fortunate that they weren't dealing with a snappish Colonel, but Havoc finally understood why the office wanted to strangle him every time he lost a girlfriend. If he was anywhere _near_ this annoying…

There was only one thing to do.

x

Roy was having difficulties. He had gotten so used to the debates. The banter and the teasing, now good-natured and affectionate. The cuddles. The tickle fights. _Ed._

A loud knock sounded on his door, and he was just blinking at it, _That knock is familiar_, when the door burst open.

"Roy!"

It was, naturally, Maes Hughes. Roy looked past him into the outer office to see his subordinates looking at the floor, the ceiling, their fingernails, the very picture of innocence. Roy was just starting the Glare of Death when he realized exactly how glad he was to see his best friend. Maes saw the look on his face and walked around his desk to tug on his sleeve.

"Come on."

x

It was a mark of how far gone Roy was that Hawkeye had actually rolled her eyes in relief as Maes dragged him out of the office at 1400 hours. Maybe they would actually be able to get something done in his absence.

First stop, their favorite bar. Yes, at two in the afternoon, so what? No shame in that. A beer for Maes, straight to the whiskey for Roy.

There was a silence.

"I have to say Roy, I didn't see this one coming."

"Mm."

"Was it the clavicle thing?"

"… Um, clavicle thing? What are you talking about?"

"You and Ed, of course!"

"Yes, but what does that have to with clavicles?" Roy shifted uncomfortably. Maes couldn't possibly mean…

"Roy, _everybody_ knows about your clavicle thing. Well, I guess not — actually no, pretty much everybody."

Roy banged his head on the bar. He was feeling too low to even bother denying. The clavicles in question were so far away…

"So I was wondering if that's what sparked the ol' Flame Alchemist's interest in this case of The Ed. On second thought, I really _should_ have seen this coming, at least the you-with-a-man part of it. It was only a matter of time before you fell for a set of clavicles that weren't attached to a women."

"It's not the clavicle thing! This isn't just— he's— it's _Ed_. It's just Ed being who he is. And now Ed is being who he is halfway across the god damn country and will probably come back with a concussion and a couple of broken ribs, because _that's what he does_. This is not about _fucking clavicles._"

Maes smiled gently and sipped his beer.

x

_Beers: 1__  
Whiskies: 2_

"Pictures! You should take pictures! It's the only way I can survive away from my beautiful Gracia!"

"Somehow I don't envision Ed posing in a rose garden for me."

"Please. Candid shots can be fantastic!"

Maes was rewarded with a small smile on Roy's face.

"See! You're feeling better already."

"No. I'm just picturing what Ed would do if I jumped out of a bush and snapped a photograph of him." Suddenly the smile was replaced by a wince. "Ouch."

"The look on his face might be worth it, though."

x

_Beers: 2  
Whiskies: 4_

"Oh, come on."

"No."

"_I_ would tell _you_!"

"You_ have _told me, right up until I begged you to stop. I know more about you and Gracia than I ever wanted to, and you, you just wouldn't stop, I told you to, but no…"

"Just give me one little detail."

"_No_. N. O."

"You know I'm curious by nature, I can't help it! Please?"

"No. You'd tell everyone. You'd tell Ed. And then we'll both be dead. Deader than dead."

"I would never!"

"Drop it, Hughes! I am_ not _going to tell you where he's ticklish!"

x

_Beers: 4  
Whiskies: 7_

Oh, Roy was _smashed_.

No, really. Totally, completely gone.

Bless his little heart.

In spite of Roy's slobbering inebriation, Maes couldn't suppress his own satisfaction. Roy, for the first time in his life, was in love. Maes beamed at his friend, who was now holding a hand over one eye in an attempt to focus on him. Gone was his reluctance to talk about Ed. In fact, it was now the _only_ thing he would talk about. Fortunately, Maes was one of the few people in the world who could listen to the following for three hours without stabbing out someone's eye with a cocktail fork:

"… an' you sh'd shee 'm eat ishecream. Issho c…cute. Firsh' he licksh aroun' th' bottom sho it dun'n drip, but he alwaysh geshome on hish handsh n'way, and th'n he licksh it off, 'nd he hash thish cute little pink tongue… I really like 's tongue…'

Maes had reverted to his standby. "And this is Elysia with her new blocks! I swear she is going to be an architect. Look how well she lines them up!"

"Nishe. I jusht mish him, Maesh…"

Maes sighed. He hadn't seen Roy so down since that prank on Hakuro fell through. Hey, wait a minute.

_Perfect!_

x

_Beers: 5  
Whiskies: Hard to tell._

Roy had come down a little from his sloshed state after a bit of puking. Fortunately, he'd bounced back by the time Maes had steered him into their third(?) bar, and had another whiskey or two. Roy could make him so proud sometimes.

He was now perfect for Maes' plans: able to stagger around but utterly without his better judgment. Perhaps Maes was a sadist, but if this didn't take Roy's mind off Ed, nothing would! It was perfect!

Perhaps Maes was a little drunk himself.

Fortunately not drunk enough to have trouble stealing _(liberating from that bar that kicked them out) _the necessary items for tonight's activity. Maes was also proud of his cleverness in the selection of the activity. After all, getting toilet paper waaaaay up into a tree requires more accuracy than either of the men could currently manage. TPing was out, sadly. But forking a lawn, now even the drunkest idiot could manage _that_!

He nodded solemnly to Roy as he handed him a share of the forks.

"Your weapons, sir."

They set to work on the small lawn that belonged to the small house in the small, quiet neighborhood.

Perhaps Maes was very drunk indeed.

x

They sat comfortably with their backs against a tree, passing a bottle _(liberated from that bar that kicked them out) _back and forth, congratulating themselves on the work of art they had created. The many forks gleamed in the moonlight, standing proudly erect, their tines sunk deep into the grass. It was a shame no one had been able to watch the process of its creation. Partly because of all those times Roy face planted, but also, performance art! Poetry in motion!

A voice emanated from the other side of the tree, startling them.

"Please. Please tell me you did not do this."


	16. Shamesies

_In which Roy is pwned, and there is a Mystery._

* * *

**E**dward Elric broke stride in his late night walk to gawk at the sea of forks sunk into the lawn before him. Who the hell had done that? And to such a nice looking little house, too. What jerks.

Suddenly he heard a wheezing sort of laugh coming from the base of a tree near the edge of the lawn. Were the asshats still _here_? Great. He could use a little exercise. Time for some… education.

No.

It… just, no.

But that laugh was so familiar… and then it was joined by an unforgettable "WA HA HA!"

Sure enough, Ed's idiot boyfriend was sitting under a tree with Maes Hughes, spilling the contents of a bottle down his front while Hughes laughed like the maniac he was.

Ed heard a voice that sounded like his own say, "Please. Please tell me you did not do this."

Ed stood frozen in horror as Roy's drunken, watery eyes lit up. "Ed! Ed, I mished you sho much!" He staggered to his feet, dropping the bottle squarely on Hughes' head before stumbling two steps towards Ed and face-planting smack in the middle of the damn street.

This was so very far beyond Roy's inebriation during their first date it wasn't even funny. Ed smacked his forehead as Roy tried to disentangle himself from the street, oh hell, he was bleeding from above one eye. Roy finally reached his goal and collapsed on Ed's shoulder. "Ed…" he sniffled.

Ed looked past mumbling Roy towards the markedly less drunk Hughes. "_What_ did you _do _to my boyfriend?" he demanded. "Wait, what are you even _doing_ here?"

Maes stood up, slightly more steadily than Roy, and looked uncomfortable. "Ah. Well. He was actually feeling rather down about your being gone for so long, and I got a phone call and… you know, I think I'm going to call it a night now goodtoseeyoubye!"

The asshat actually _jumped a fence_ and set off running. Ed, hobbled by a limp Roy, was unable to pursue. "GET BACK HERE, YOU ASSHOLE!" he yelled.

Lights flicked on up and down the street. Roy rested his head on Ed's shoulder and began to snore.

x

The next day.

"… and since you got here so late we had to deal with that transfer paperwork on our own this morning, but apparently we made a few errors in the process…"

Yeah, right. Because you "make errors" all the damn time, Riza. No really, day in and day out.

"… and two signed copies of each correction have to be filed separately, with a handwritten addendum certifying the changes as official, so…"

_You are the devil_.

"I'll just add these to this stack, sir. Oh, it looks as if you need some more pens."

Roy smiled feebly at his Lieutenant. "Yes, thank you."

She stepped briskly out of the room, pausing only to open the blinds of the window to the bright afternoon sun.

_Oh god, my head_.

x

"Here you go sir, I finished the repairs on this one this morning!"

Well, at least *one* staff member doesn't want me dead.

"Ah, good work, Fuery!" Roy praised. "Let's just turn it on, shall –"

****

"Oh god, turn it – it won't –"

****

"What the –"

****

"The knob –"

****OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooop.

Roy gazed at Fuery with stunned eyes. Stunned in two separate ways, really, one of them due to the purely physical shock dealt to him by _that noise oh my god that noise_, and the second due to the fact he would never, ever have imagined the sweet young man could do something so diabolical.

Fuery's lips were moving, presumably in some sort of apology. Regardless of the words, the look on his face was convinceingly distraught and chagrined. Impressive, really. Being on Team Mustang had corrupted that kid more than Roy had realized.

Fuery exited, and Roy was left to stare at the wall opposite his desk, his eyes slightly crossed.

x**  
**

Precisely when Roy regained his hearing, Breda and Falman began extremely vital reorganization of some of the filing cabinets.

***SLAM***

***SLAM***

***SLAM***

Those drawers always had been too heavy to close properly.

x

Havoc accidentally set some of the completed paperwork on fire. The paperwork that could only be completed by Roy.

x

_Black Hayate_ THREW UP ON HIS FOOT.

x

Riza left to take Black Hayate to the vet, Havoc managed to banish _himself_ after the fiasco with the paperwork, Fuery went down to the warehouse to look for that other radio, Breda and Falman declared that they could no longer live with such a defective filing cabinet. Roy cried.

x

Stating Roy was in the doghouse was inaccurate. This was because he was actually in multiple doghouses, a hot seat, and a hall of shame simultaneously.

In no particular order:

Doghouse: Probably would not be allowed in his favorite bar anytime in the near future.

Doghouse: Ed did not appreciate having to stash Roy in a quickly transmuted hole in the ground for an hour while running interference with the outraged citizens that had poured from the nearby homes at the sound of Ed's shout. After managing to convince them that he wasn't the culprit, Ed was roped into a brief manhunt for the clearly drunken miscreants ("Look! They left a bottle!") that took up even more of a night he had hoped to spend on a reunion with a [sober] boyfriend. The grueling process of hauling Roy's drunk ass home did not improve his mood.

Doghouse: Roy's staff were furious because Roy hadn't dragged his sorry self into the office until mid afternoon, leaving them to deal with a flood of transfer paperwork on their own. Also, they had closed ranks around their beloved and wronged First Lieutenant [see below].

Hot Seat: Riza did not find lawns sporting one hundred forks amusing.

Hall of Shame: Maes and he were so drunk they _forked the wrong yard_, instead hitting Riza's neighbor three doors down and across the street. While this made Riza marginally less pissed off, it wasn't as if she didn't recognize that she was the intended target, and it was just embarrassing. Roy Mustang: Inept Prankster. Who wanted _that_ on their tombstone?

Not to mention the three stitches he needed above his eyebrow.

It was Doghouse the Second that was Roy's personal unfavorite. Roy had awoken that morning transmuted to his couch, with a stick of chalk barely within reach, a note that said _Let's see if you can even remember basic alchemy bastard_, and a screaming bladder. Edward was _angry_.

His pookie must be absolutely furious, to rat him out to the entire office. They all clearly knew what had transpired, and although he suspected that at least Havoc and Breda were secretly amused, they were all too pissed to laugh it off. Hence the torture. And when would Ed forgive him?

He had to work obscenely late, too late to get a car home. He trudged wearily up his front steps… and nearly tripped over Ed.

x**  
**

It really went about the way you would expect.

"WHAT THE _FUCK_, ROY! AREN'T YOU SUPPOSED TO BE THE ADULT HERE? DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY TIMES _I_ HAVE PLAYED A PRANK ON SOMEONE? YOU KNOW, ME, THE TEENAGER? ZERO! NEVER! DO YOU KNOW HOW RI-FUCKING-DICULOUS COMING HOME TO MY 'ADULT' BOYFRIEND MAKING A TOTAL ASS OF HIMSELF IS?"

"I… I'm sorry, Ed." Roy whimpered. "I just – I missed you. And Hughes was trying to cheer me up…"

"BY GETTING YOU SLOBBERING DRUNK? GREAT! ALCOHOL SOLVES FUCKING EVERYTHING, AFTER ALL!"

Roy began to sniffle. "… and I wanted you to come home so badly and now _I ruined it I'm so sorry Ed I'm so sorry please don't be mad anymore pleeeeeeeasesese…"_

Roy flung himself on Ed, and after all, Ed was a total sucker for him these days. Soon Roy felt a soothing pat on the back.

x**  
**

They ended up inside sitting on Roy's couch, Roy clinging to Ed like a forlorn limpet and snuffling into the side of his neck. Ed sighed.

"Idiot."

"Mm srrry," emanated from somewhere below Ed's jaw as Roy attempted to clamber into his lap.

"Yeah, yeah." Roy rendered himself improbably small and did his best to hide under Ed's chin. Bizarrely, it sort of worked.

"Mfffed ou."

"Yeah, I missed you too, idiot."

"Fftil mddame?"

Some squirming and a resort to brute strength extracted Roy from his refuge under Ed's chin and at least halfway out of Ed's lap so the two could face each other.

"No, I'm not mad at you anymore, you disgrace to your rank. Idiot."

Roy tilted his head to rest on the back of the couch as their fingers twined together, looking sideways up at Ed. He smiled a little.

"You already got your revenge, you know. The office did its best to destroy me today."

"Really? What did you do to get them so mad?"

Roy sat up, puzzled. "About the whole, um, prank thing. As soon as you told Hawkeye Maes and I were the ones that did it, she _knew_ that we meant to get her instead. I don't think she was much less pissed than if we _had_ forked her yard. And she managed to spread the rage around…"

"I didn't tell her. I've been in the library all day."

"What – then who did? Wait… why were you in her neighborhood that late anyway?"

x**  
**

* * *

**x  
**

Kudos to **Tara** for the chapter heading (except for the part about the mystery because MWAHAHA none of you saw that coming). Also, Chapter 15 has been reformatted because FF has been sucking lately and totally gutted it the first time around. Actually, FF has gutted the careful formatting of _every damn chapter_, and I am working on an overhaul. Seriously, I may just head over to LJ one of these days.

**Still need help** for the story summary that appears on the index page. Seriously unhappy about the one I have now, it is totally lame.


End file.
